


Sketches of Max Caulfield

by Recourse (orphan_account)



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Biting, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Sexuality Crisis, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-06-01 23:27:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6541090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Recourse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where Max never had the power to turn back time, she still saved Kate Marsh...but not Chloe. In the aftermath of Jefferson's arrest and Max's stay in the Dark Room, Kate becomes her lifeline, and the two of them hold to each other in the calm after the worst week of their lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Charcoal

Kate started the sketch the minute that Max left the hospital.

She didn’t really know why, but after Max’s visit, she felt the urge to capture her, somehow. Perhaps, she thought as she opened her sketchbook and took out a piece of charcoal, she needed everyone to see the Max Caulfield she’d seen on that rooftop. An angel, sent by God in her most dire hour, to bring her back to the light.

Or maybe this was just for her, to see Max smile again. She’d worn such an expression of worry and fear for the last few days, and Kate knew it was somewhat her fault, no matter how much Max told her it wasn’t. She’d made the decision to go up on that rooftop. However much what happened before that might have been forced on her, that had been her choice.

So, start with the curve of her jawline.

She didn’t allow herself to be sloppy, this time. Though it was a sketch, she had to make it right. No shortcuts, no stylization. Like life drawing, with only her memories as a model. That thought brought a blush to her cheeks as she remembered the reasons she’d never actually taken such a class. _Focus, Kate_ , she told herself as she guided her charcoal to create an ear. _You’re thinking too much._

After a time, she forgot she was sitting in a hospital bed, after a suicide attempt, after being drugged and harassed for days. Max’s image took shape as she worked, the soft black eyes giving comfort as she considered how to lay out her freckles, how to start with her lips. A buzz from her phone on the nightstand draws her out for a minute.

Max, asking for her help. Nathan’s room number. That she could do.

She put the phone down and went back to work. It was easier to imagine Max smiling, now that she’d done something to help. Even if it was a little thing.

A nurse brought her lunch, dinner. She barely touched them. The freckles were giving her trouble. She couldn’t remember exactly the way they scattered across Max’s face. They were mostly near her eyes, right? She wished she’d brought a picture of Max, or that she’d had one on her phone. It seemed very important that she get it all right.

Frustrated, she went back to the hair, until she felt her eyelids growing heavy. A simple headshot sketch shouldn’t be this hard. Refusing to touch it until she knew exactly how to finish it off, she finally put it aside and let herself fall further into the covers. She stared at all the gifts people had left for her, but the sketch was what really brought her calm. Even without her freckles, Max’s smile and eyes were comforting, rendered in black and white. Before she fell asleep, she sent a text to her father:

_I’m not going home tomorrow. I’ll be fine here. They didn’t win._

 

_Kate can feel Max’s body behind her, warm and soft. One of her arms reaches over Kate and gently takes her hand. Kate is safe in her embrace. Alice hops into their bed and nestles under Kate’s chin, her ears tickling against her neck. Kate closes her eyes and smiles, and feels Max squeeze her tighter. It’s a dream, she knows that quickly; this is Blackwell, not a hospital room. But dreaming about falling asleep isn’t so bad._

 

She woke up late again. Today they were supposed to release her from the hospital. She found herself hoping that, once she told Max her plan to stay at Blackwell, she could meet up with her and celebrate. She checked her phone: One from Dad, one from Max. Dad, as always, was supportive and worried simultaneously, but he’d allow her to stay as long as she talked to him every night, which she could handle. Max...

_In the hospital. Could use a friend. Room 311._

Kate’s blood ran cold. She threw off her covers and ran out the door, bare feet pounding against the hospital linoleum. 311 wasn’t far. Luckily. Kate knew she probably looked like a crazy person, but at that moment, it didn’t matter. She needed to know. She needed to _see._

She stopped herself as soon as she hit the door, remembering that whatever had happened, bursting in probably wouldn’t be welcome. She took a deep breath and turned the knob, slowly pushing to see what she could see.

The waitress from the Two Whales sat at Max’s bedside, right next to David Madsen, of all people. And Max...

Max was okay.

She wasn’t in a _good_ state, Kate could see that right away. Her hair stuck to her face, oily and matted with dried sweat, and distinctive tear-streaks marked her cheeks. But as soon as Kate opened the door, she looked away from David and looked straight at Kate.

“Max,” Kate breathed, crossing the room and heading for Max’s side, directly across from David and the waitress. She leaned down and hugged her before she did anything else.

“Kate,” Max said quietly. “I’m glad you’re here.” She broke the embrace for a moment to turn to her guests. “I—Can we have some time alone? She doesn’t know yet...”

The couple nodded, the waitress wiping her eyes as she stood up. “Stay safe, Max,” she added as she left the room, squeezing David’s hand.

“Kate,” Max began as Kate took a seat by her bedside, “There’s so much I need to tell you...”

Kate heard it all. Nathan’s dead. Victoria’s dead. Chloe’s dead. Jefferson’s in jail. The Dark Room. Max, drugged and bound, just like Kate, until David found her. But she remembered more. Max told her everything in a monotone, her eyes staring straight ahead. Kate took her hand, like the dream. It felt like a dream, a nightmare. She had nothing to say to any of it. She could hardly believe it but for her own foggy memories.

“David brought me here,” Max finished, rubbing her neck. “They did some tests, made sure that the drugs didn’t do any permanent damage. And then the police came. You’re lucky you didn’t get my text earlier, you would’ve had to sit all through that while I was crying my eyes out.” Max let loose a sigh and fell back into her pillows. “I think I got all that out. For now.”

Kate squeezed her hand. “I’m so sorry,” was all she could manage.

“Me too.” Max drew in a shuddering breath. “I shouldn’t have—I should’ve—” Shining tears welled in her eyes, and as she closed them, they retraced the tracks so easily visible on her face. “Dammit,” she whispered, furiously rubbing at her face, “I’m sorry, it’s—”

“It’s all right, Max,” Kate interrupted. “I’m here for you. Like you were for me.”

“I’m so tired, Kate.” Max looked over to her, her blue eyes bloodshot and wet. “This whole week, it feels like I’ve never slept, like disaster has just kept coming and coming and I thought I could stop it, I thought I could help, but—”

“You did.” Kate’s words were as firm as her belief in them. “You saved me. And without your work, David wouldn’t have ever found Jefferson. You did more than anyone could have ever wanted. You—you’re my angel, Max. I’ll never forget that.”

“I don’t feel much like an angel.”

“You don’t have to.” Kate squeezed her hand again. “I can’t imagine...all I can say is that I’ll stay with you, as long as you want.”

Max squeezed back. “Thank you.” She closed her eyes and laid back. “I really do need to get some sleep. Will you—will you stay with me? At least for a while? I don’t—I don’t want to be alone.”

Kate’s heart pumped as she remembered the dream. How nice it would be, to crawl in beside her, make her feel comfortable and safe. Even as she thought about it, she blushed and backed away from it in her mind; that was _not_ a normal desire, not between two girls, not— _no._ She willed herself to stop thinking about it. “Of course,” is what she actually said. She thought for a moment. “But give me just a second. I’ll grab my sketchbook.”

Max nodded, and Kate quickly made her way back to her own room, where she found a nurse looking very flustered. “Where were you?” he asked.

“My friend got admitted here this morning. I was checking on her. I’m...” Kate looked at the clock on the wall. “I’m clear for release, right?”

“I was just coming to tell you that, but you decided to scare the crap out of me first,” the nurse said. “Yes, you’re free to go. Technically we’re supposed to make you head out in a wheelchair, but if you want to stay with your friend...”

“I do.”

“All right. Your parents called ahead. They said they’re going to be late, but they’re coming to help you move a couple of things out of here, get you back to Blackwell. What room is your friend in?”

“311.”

“Okay.” The nurse looked at all her gifts. “I’ll let them know when they stop by, we’ll get the paperwork filled out then. Next time, tell somebody where you’re going, all right?”

“Okay,” Kate said, wanting to roll her eyes and dart past him but knowing that’d be rude.

“I get it, I’ll get out of your hair,” the nurse promised, stepping out of her way. She grabbed her sketchbook and charcoal and ran back to Max’s room as soon as she could, sitting down beside her again and grasping her hand.

Max looked at her, a little hint of a smile poking through her foggy expression. “You don’t have to do that, you know.”

“It makes me feel better. Do you...not want me to?” Kate asked, a blush growing on her cheeks.

“It’s fine,” Max said. “I-I like it. But you can’t sketch with one hand.”

“I’ll wait until you fall asleep, then.”

Max nodded at that, and closed her eyes again, breathing in and out, in and out. Kate studied her freckles, committed them to memory. When Max’s hand grew limp, she set back to work.

 

* * *

 

She took the sketch with her back to Blackwell, and once her family left, she pinned it up over her dresser. Alice, rescued from Max’s room, sat right under it. Looking over to the sketch once in a while made checking her email, her social media, a little bit easier as she waded through a bunch of ‘get well soon’s and apologies and prayers, and the headlines about Jefferson, and Victoria, and Nathan, and Chloe. News about how the school would be closed for a week for mourning and restructuring and all sorts of things. She read them with a kind of numbness, knowing that Max had to witness so much of it. Her own problems seemed so small and stupid in comparison. When she thought of that, of how something so much smaller had almost cost her her own life, she picked up her phone and quickly shot off a text.

_Max, if you ever need to talk, I’m here._

Before she even set her phone down, several replies buzzed in her hand.

_Coming back to Blackwell tonight_

_Don’t want to stay here_

_I’ll come and see you tomorrow for sure_

_Thanks for being here_

Kate gripped the phone tighter.

_Always._

She set it down, then shut down her laptop, got up, and knelt at the foot of her bed.

 _Lord, please see Max safely through the valley,_ she prayed, hands tightly clasped in front of her chest. _Be her light in the darkness she walks in now. I ask nothing for myself, oh Lord, but for another of your daughters who has suffered more than I._ _Let her keep her love and her hope and her faith, so that she doesn’t falter as I did._

She stood up and crossed herself, just for good measure, and slipped under the covers. She fell asleep still staring at the sketch she’d made of a smiling Max, hoping she could see it again.

 

_The flashbulb goes off, to a groan from Max. “Smile!” Kate shouts, passing the camera setup and slapping Max across the face. Max whimpers, struggling against the duct-tape bonds that bind her to the chair. “You’re going to do exactly what I say,” Kate hisses, grabbing Max by the chin. “I need this, the perfect photo to capture your image. You can’t take it away from me!”_

_Max’s eyes are a dead black. The Dark Room expands around them, the walls so far away from the studio that they fade into total darkness. There is only the white backdrop, the cameras, Max, and Kate, standing over her and leering. Kate leans down and grabs Max’s collar, meaning to rip her shirt right off her skinny little—_

 

Kate awoke with a start, covering her mouth as ice gripped her heart. There was no sun outside her window, still just the harsh white light of the full moon. _Lord, Lord I am sorry,_ she chanted in her head, wanting to throw up at the dream, the nightmare. But was it a sign? She was just as perverse as Jefferson, wanting to—

Kate threw the covers off and marched over to the charcoal sketch. With shaking hands, she tore it from the wall and with one swift motion, ripped it in half. As they fluttered to the floor, she covered her face with her hands. _It’s gone, all right? I don’t—I have to be there for her. I can’t want anything else, anything..._ Her mind went back to the urge she’d had to crawl into bed with Max. _Dirty._

As she knelt before her bed to pray for guidance, she heard a small _click_ outside her room. And then, softer sounds. Max sounds. The timbre of her voice was obvious, even if all Kate could really hear was impressions. But they didn’t sound good. And against her better judgement, Kate got up and opened her door.

She met Max’s eyes as soon as she left her room. She hugged herself, standing against her door, shivering in her pajamas. Max looked away, her eyes moving to Victoria’s little memorial, a collection of flowers and barrier tape.

“Um, hi, Kate,” she said.

“Max, are you okay?” Kate stepped forward.

“N-no,” Max whispered. “Not at all.”

Kate embraced her, and Max gratefully leaned in and rested her head on Kate’s shoulder, sniffling. “I-I have to stay for the — for Chloe’s — but I _hate_ this school, and that room, and when I woke up I thought I was back there, alone, while _he_ was out doing whatever the hell he did, and, and, and...”

Max fell silent as Kate held her tight. “At least you made it,” she said after a long, deep breath. “At least I didn’t fuck that up. I’m so glad you’re here, Kate...”

Kate didn’t know what to say to that. Of course she didn’t mess up. She could never...she couldn’t have known. After a moment’s pause, she told Max, “If you...if you don’t want to be alone, you can stay in my room tonight.” Guilt prickled at the edge of her mind, _are you sure this is just for her_ , but she put it aside. “If you have nightmares, or anything, I’ll be there. Okay?”

Max pulled back, staring into Kate’s eyes. “What did I ever do to deserve you?” she asked, a tired half-smile coming to her face. “I’ll take the couch.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I’m not kicking you out of your own bed because of my stupid nightmares.” Max turned back to her door. “Let me get some things. And Kate...thanks for watching out for me.”

The two of them gathered up Max’s covers and pillows and set them up on Kate’s little blue couch. As Max nestled in, Kate bent down next to her and put a hand on her shoulder. “If you need anything, you can come and wake me up. I promise I won’t be mad.”

“You’re an angel, Kate.” Max’s fingers reached out and sleepily touched Kate’s cheek.

“I guess you rubbed off on me.”

Max let out a little chuckle, sending flutters through Kate’s stomach. “You’re too sweet,” she murmured, turning over. “Can’t handle it. Gotta sleep.”

Kate left her hand on Max’s shoulder for a moment, for reasons she didn’t want to consider. She shook it off and went back to bed, turning herself so that she could watch Max, make sure she really did sleep.

This time, thankfully, there were no dreams.


	2. Pencil

Kate stirred as she felt the morning sun on her back. She turned over and spotted Max standing in front of her dresser, holding the two halves of her sketch together. Kate froze as Max slowly turned towards her.

“This is beautiful, Kate.”

“Uh...”

“Why did you...” Max set the sketch down on the dresser, tracing the tear.

“It-it was stupid, just some dream I had, and when I woke up, you know, you think you’re still asleep, kind of?” Kate stammered out, trying to avoid looking at Max’s bare legs, the way her hair was haloed by the morning light. “I—I had a dream where I was—I was taking pictures of you, like Jefferson, and—”

Max sat down on Kate’s bed and put a hand on her shoulder. “You’re nothing like him,” she said firmly. “Kate, I’m giving you permission: you can draw me as much as you want. No photos, though. I don’t think I can handle photos.” She paused for a minute, rubbing Kate’s shoulder. “Your illustrations always cheered me up.”

“Thanks,” Kate whispered. Max’s touch made her feel lighter, safer. They sat in silence for a minute, Kate’s breath too heavy in the morning air.

“I don’t even know what to do with myself today,” Max admitted, taking her hand off Kate’s shoulder and putting it in her lap. “I’m pulling out of Blackwell, obviously, but not until—until after Chloe’s funeral, and it’s not like I’ve got anywhere else to stay...”

“You can stay here,” Kate said, sitting up. “I can keep you company. If you want.”

“Sounds good. I could use a day with a girlfriend where I’m not risking my life on an hourly basis or looking into dark secrets or...” Max sighed. “God. This week.”

Kate saw Max’s shoulders start to shake, and hugged her from behind, wanting to calm her, give back the peace Max gave her. Max swallowed and sniffed, wiping tears away. “I’m sorry,” she said, pitching her head down. “I’m such a mess.”

“You’ve got every right to be.”

Max let out a little laugh. “You always know just what to say, Kate.”

“I’m just guessing.”

Max stood up, leaving Kate’s embrace. “I should get dressed. I guess. I’ll grab a few things from my room.”

“Want me to grab breakfast and bring it back here?” Kate asked.

“And not have to go out in public? Yes please.”

 

* * *

 

Kate returned with two styrofoam trays to find Max sitting on the couch, guitar on her lap, the occasional note or two filling the air as she tried to start on something. Kate offered Max a choice, and she chose the one stacked with pancakes, which had been intended for Kate but it wasn’t like she was going to say no to Max. They ate in a comfortable silence on the couch, Kate occasionally stealing glances at Max’s guitar, wondering why she hadn’t seen it before. She thought about her violin, and halfway through a bite of eggs, an idea came to her.

After she swallowed, she asked, “Do you want to...play something together?”

“Like what? You have a song that calls for violin and guitar?”

Kate considered for a second. “Well, no, but...I don’t know. I’ve never just _played_ with someone before. I’ve always thought it might be nice. It’s always been practice, practice, practice, for grand classical stuff.”

“And I’m an indie rock kind of girl,” Max mused. “All right, I can see it happening.” She set down her tray on the floor and shifted herself. “You start. Set the time.”

Kate set down her tray on her desk and bent down to get her violin out of its case. As she rose, setting it under her chin, she thought of how to start. A half-remembered melody came to her, something she’d heard coming out of a dorm room a few weeks ago. A violin had captured her ear for the few seconds before it led into a thumping bass beat, and with nothing but her ear and her memory, she tried to bring it out.

 _One-two-and-three, hmhm, one-two-three,_ she hummed internally as she slid the bow over the strings. The melody repeated itself once, then she put it at a rest, two long low notes, waiting for Max. Max strummed a few nervous notes, then repeated Kate’s melody in a minor key, adding a rest near the end. As she set to repeat it again, Kate joined her, adding a sixteenth note in the same place. The two of them diverged, Kate’s violin becoming higher, lighter, the melody growing more complex as she grew bolder. Max shifted lower, stretching notes to warp and twist the song until the two of them were almost perpendicular, a pleasant dissonance between them.

It felt like a conversation. Max’s modifications were playful, tentative, and Kate responded eagerly. As soon as they reached the point where they would’ve been playing different songs entirely, they started shifting back towards each other, their tones converging, melodies harmonizing once again, until Max suddenly dropped off as Kate began another stanza. Kate let the melody play out till its end, stretching the final note, closing her eyes as she felt its echoes receding.

When she opened her eyes, she found Max leaning back, her guitar on the floor, head to the ceiling. Max let out a sigh.

“Thanks, Kate.”

“For what?”

“For a second, I forgot about everything. I just listened to you, and followed along. All that mattered was the music. I needed that.” Max closed her eyes. “You don’t have to put up with me, but you do.”

“I’m not _putting up with_ you,” Kate said softly, laying her violin back in its case. “I’m hanging out with you. Because you’re my friend?” She sat down next to Max, wringing her hands in her lap.

Max didn’t respond. Kate reached over and touched her hand. “Max, I’m not doing this out of pity.”

“Then why?”

 _Out of love,_ Kate thought, but she might take that the wrong way. And Kate could be thinking of it the wrong way, too. “Because you matter,” she said. “And not just to me.”

Max swallowed. “I...”

“That’s what you said on the rooftop. It’s true for you, too,” Kate explained, running her fingers along the back of Max’s hand. “I care about you a lot, Max,” she admitted, a blush coming to her cheeks. “I want to stay connected with you. I won’t let you drift away into the dark.”

“That’s all I wanted to do after yesterday,” Max said, her voice breaking. She drew in a deep breath. “Kate, you don’t owe me anything.”

“I told you. This isn’t a duty. I _want_ to be...there for you. For as long as you need.” Kate leaned into Max’s shoulder.

“That could be a long time.”

“Then it will be.”

Kate felt Max lean into her too, her body relaxing against her. Max took her hand and held tight. Kate’s heart pounded in her chest, her stomach sick with worry. Max had seemed so _alive_ for the last week, but now...Now she needed someone to light her way. Kate steeled herself. Max might never be her old self again, but she could fight this despair. She’d felt it in the music. Kate would do whatever it took to feel that again.

It felt like an eternity, sitting there on the couch, holding her. Kate thought she could fall asleep then, and be perfectly happy, as long as her touch kept Max tethered. It was Max who broke the silence.

“We can’t sit here like this all day. We’ll cramp up.”

Kate smiled to hear Max’s extremely low-effort joke. “Well, then, what do you want to do?”

“How about...a movie? Are you allowed to watch R-rated stuff?”

Kate laughed. “If I wasn’t, how would you know?”

She felt Max leave her, get off the couch, and fought the urge to reach out and keep her close. _Let her do what she wants_ , she ordered herself. _Stop thinking weird._

Max bent over Kate’s laptop, typing something in the search bar. “I bet I could find a stream...” she muttered to herself. “Ah-ha!” She unplugged Kate’s computer from the wall and placed it on her bed so the two could see it from the couch. She pulled up whatever her chosen movie was to fullscreen, then sat back down next to Kate.

“Blade Runner,” she explained as she settled in next to Kate.

“Never heard of it.”

“Then this’ll be fun.”

It was a dreamy movie, dark and loud and neon at times, at other times white and serene, or strangely melancholic. Kate could barely follow what was going on, but the final scene, on a rooftop in heavy rainfall, sent chills through her. She grabbed for Max’s hand, and found it waiting for her as the man on screen shouted, “It’s too bad she won’t live. But then again, who does?”

As the credits rolled, she felt Max let go of a breath she hadn’t noticed her holding. “That was Chloe’s favorite,” she said quietly.

“Max...”

“We’d have these twenty-minute, screaming arguments about whether Deckard was a replicant or not. We used to get so fired up about that kind of thing. Chloe usually won. It was hard to argue with her, even if she was wrong, because she could call you out on bullshit better than anyone.” Kate looked to Max, and saw that she was smiling. “Even when I met back up with her, it was the same. She’d changed a lot, but she was still Chloe. Still sharp.”

“I—if this is hard for you-”

“I picked the movie, Kate.” Max flexed her fingers between Kate’s. “It feels good to share it. I don’t want all those moments to be lost.”

“You never talked much about her...”

“Then maybe I should. Did I ever tell you about us being Arcadia Bay’s fiercest pirate crew?”

Kate had never really known Chloe. She was nothing but a vague name and half-heard stories and rumors. Max told her everything as they idly stretched themselves across Kate’s room, the one-sided conversation keeping them tethered to each other as Kate made her bed, put her computer back, fed Alice.

Their friendship, their separation, their reunion. Years of childhood, side-by-side. The death of a father. Moving to the big city, and coming back.  Going shooting in the junkyard. Breaking into the swimming pool. Max’s voice started to fade out by the time she came around to Thursday, and she finally stopped.

She laid across the couch, staring into the ceiling. “There are a lot of things to regret,” she said finally as Kate took a seat on her bed. “But the biggest is not keeping up with her before everything went to hell. I loved her so much, and when we were together it felt like we were unstoppable. But we weren’t. Serves me right.”

Kate walked over and pulled her into a hug.

“Thanks for listening, Kate.” Max squeezed her.

“Always.”

“I, uh, I think I’m all talked out.” Max pulled back. “But do you mind if I stay here anyway? It feels like home base, now...”

“As long as you want.”

 

* * *

 

Max brought her stereo in from her room, and Kate let the smooth waves of her soundtrack fill the room as she finally got to reading _The October Country_ and every other book and assignment she’d completely let slide after Tuesday. Max seemed content to lay in various places throughout the room and just listen, only speaking up when Kate asked her what she wanted for lunch. Eventually, Kate’s eyes grew tired, and a headache started to set in, so she set down her schoolwork and picked up her sketchbook.

Max laid on her bed, arms behind her head, eyes closed, looking almost serene. Kate’s quick pencil sketches couldn’t do her justice. She wanted charcoal again, to agonize over each line and mark on her face, but last night’s dream stopped her. Despite Max’s permission, Kate still felt strange, drawing her. But it was almost a compulsion. Kate wanted this moment to last forever, to not be a moment anymore. But Max’s playlist ended, and she opened her eyes, and Kate dropped the book.

Max let out a laugh. “What, did you think I was asleep?”

“No, I just...” Kate scrambled around her feet for the book and set it behind her. “It’s easier when you’re not looking at me.”

“People always look better when they don’t think they’re modeling,” Max agreed, getting up from the bed and crossing over to Kate’s desk. “Can I see?”

Kate wanted to say “No,” as though the sketches contained some hidden truth she’d infused into them through her pencil or something. They felt private. But that wouldn’t make sense, she couldn’t say that to Max without starting a conversation that she found herself avoiding more and more as the day went on. She nodded, kneading her fingers on her knee as Max reached behind her and flipped open the sketchbook.

“It’s better than looking in a mirror,” Max said as she put the book down. Kate’s eyes drifted towards the mirror on the opposite wall, still covered. She hadn’t bothered cleaning up much, she realized.

“It’s just how I see you,” Kate said.

Max seemed a little shaken by that as she walked over to Kate’s bed and sat down, curling her legs up against herself. “Kate, if you keep this up, I’ll never want to go home.”

Kate didn’t know what to say to that. She’d hardly thought about the fact that Max was going to leave, but now that the idea was in her head, she found that she didn’t like it. She wanted Max to stay here, prove that Arcadia Bay couldn’t defeat her. But as she looked at the girl on the bed, she realized that that wasn’t her choice to make. All she could do was make it easier, or harder.

Kate set back to work on her reading once Max put another playlist on. An order of cheap pizza for dinner, picked up outside the Blackwell dorms, and then Max decided they should watch another movie, _Alien_ this time, as Max was mortified that Kate had never seen it. As they settled in together on the couch, Max reached for her hand, promising, “You’ll need something to grab onto.”

It was soon obvious that Max knew this film like the back of her hand. Kate learned to steel herself whenever Max’s fingers clenched; the part that really drove that home was the scene where the crew were all eating dinner, and Kate couldn’t figure out why Max was so tense until Kane’s chest burst open. She screamed and clung to Max, eliciting a nervous laugh, and an “I told you so.”

As the room grew dark around them, the action on screen seemed ever more urgent, and Max ended up putting her arm around Kate’s shoulder to calm her down. There was such a thrill in all of this; the film, the closeness with Max, the way everything else from the last week faded away in Max’s arms and she could just focus on the rush of being frightened of something she knew wasn’t real.

Then Ripley started stripping down for the long sleep in hyperspace, and Kate found herself blushing and growing hot in Max’s hold. She cleared her throat, trying not to be too obvious about what, exactly, she was staring at on the screen. It was almost a relief when the alien came back and replaced that fuzzy sensation with black terror again.

As the escape pod flew into the blackness of space with only one survivor onboard (plus one cat), Kate took a deep breath, relaxing into Max, feeling that warm and fuzzy sensation again, but not fighting it this time. Max’s hand slowly stroked her back.

“You like weird movies,” Kate mumbled sleepily.

“Geek parents.”

Max yawned as Kate considered how long they could cuddle before things were weird. Maybe they were weird already. As long as Max was happy, that would be fine.

“We should get to bed,” Max said. “You’re falling asleep on me.”

“Am not.”

“If you drool on me, you have to do my laundry.”

Kate sighed and stood up, stretching. “All right, all right.” She uncovered the mirror and undid her bun, noting how messy it looked since she’d done it in the bathroom this morning. She caught a glimpse of Max watching her, but tried to pay it no mind. She especially tried to ignore the reflection of Max as she changed into pajamas.

“It’s...cool if I stay here again, right?” Max asked.

“Of course.”

As Kate knelt before her bed to pray, she felt Max’s eyes on her. She wasn’t sure what to pray for, other than maybe a single sign that she wasn’t wrong to feel like this about Max, that her desires weren’t as filthy as they felt. And that she be allowed to stay by Max’s side until she was ready to move on.

She climbed into bed and whispered a goodnight across the room to Max, who looked sort of lonely over there on the couch. Small.

 _Don’t think about that,_ Kate told herself. _Go to sleep. She’s fine._

She turned over and put her face in the pillow to avoid staring at Max all night, and tried to focus on sleeping. She thought she heard Max fall asleep, her breathing slow down, but almost as quickly Max gave out a sharp gasp, and a quiet groan. Something shifted, Max’s feet hit the floor, and Kate turned over despite herself to see Max at the side of her bed, pillows under her arm.

“Kate, I do-don’t know how to ask, but...”

Kate’s eyes widened as goosebumps ran down her spine, but she understood immediately. She shifted herself over and turned her head to the wall. As Max put her pillows next to her head and slid in beside her, she felt a warm, trickling sensation, and blushed furiously as Max’s arm circled around her waist. Their bodies fit together perfectly. Max shook as she found a comfortable position, as did Kate, but after a moment everything seemed _right_. It was easy to fall asleep with Max, and Kate dreamed only of soft, sweet things, and kissing a girl who loved her back.


	3. Ink

Kate woke up in Max’s arms, the soft rise and fall of her chest almost lulling her back to sleep despite the sun’s invasion. She had no intention of getting up at all, in fact, not as long as Max held her. She thought vaguely about church, and hoped that Max would wake up in time for her to go, but somehow it seemed less important than sitting here and enjoying this moment.

Max shifted behind her with a muffled yawn. “Good morning,” she murmured into Kate’s neck.

“Any dreams?” Kate asked.

“...Nothing bad,” Max replied after a pause. She squeezed Kate. “You’re good luck.”

Kate giggled, feeling lightheaded. _If this is the sign, God, thank you_ , she thought as Max snuggled closer.

She’d almost fallen asleep again when Max let out a sullen sigh. She pulled away from Kate and sat up, putting her hands on her chin. As Kate rolled over to see what was wrong, Max said, “I just realized that I probably worried half the town sick yesterday.”

“Why?”

“I turned my phone off. And I wasn’t online all day,” Max explained. “Which means that everyone probably thinks I’m dead or something.”

“Well, why did you do that?” Kate sat up.

“I was spending the day with you. I didn’t want everyone coming in and reminding me of everything, worrying about me, just...” Max sighed. “But I have to sometime. The police probably want to talk to me again, too. I might need to go to court...This sucks. Can we go back to yesterday before I decide to actually do anything responsible?”

“I wish we could.” Kate wanted to hug her again. Pull her back down to the bed. Keep the world away from her.

Instead, Max stood up. “All right, I’ll go pretend that I’m okay for a while. I’m sure you have to get to church anyway.”

Kate murmured a yes and got up after her, grabbing her shower caddy as Max gathered up her clothes. She put them with her covers on the couch, then turned to Kate. She bit her lip as they looked at each other.

“Kate...before I go...” Max’s cheeks flushed. “I—I’ve been thinking—yesterday, it felt like...” She drew in a deep breath and gently took Kate’s hands. “I—I have no idea how to say this.”

Kate couldn’t breathe, couldn’t blink. Her mouth went dry. “Kate, yesterday, it seemed like you—and me, we...” Max struggled with her words for a second, and then gave up entirely. She closed the distance between them, and kissed Kate.

Their lips only met for one electric moment before Kate’s mind rebelled, sending her stumbling back, her fingers migrating to her lips as Max’s arms fell to her sides.

“I’m sorry,” Max stammered immediately, “I just thought, I—Did I screw everything up?”

A dozen conflicting thoughts warred in Kate’s mind. She sat down on the edge of her bed, looking down, biting down on a fingernail by instinct.

“Kate, please, please, talk to me, tell me, is, are we okay?”

“I don’t know,” Kate whispered. “I—I really don’t.”

She looked up and saw Max running a hand through her hair, her eyes shining with tears. “I’m sorry,” she repeated, and fled the room.

Kate wanted to call out to her, to ask her to help her figure this out, but she couldn’t, not now. Not now that she’d actually felt what it was like to kiss her. She hadn’t dare think of it before, even the thought of touching her seeming too forbidden, too sinful, but now that she’d done it...

She just wanted to do it again. And more of it. For longer. And if God didn’t want her to do that, then why would He send her? Why would He put them together to heal each others’ wounds, give them these feelings, and then punish them for acting on them? It didn’t make sense, and yet, screaming in the back of her mind, eighteen years of warnings and condemnations sat stubborn against her own reasoning. God was guiding her to this, that was the only explanation, it was the only way she could believe that Max could’ve come to her in her darkest hour.

She glanced out the window and noted that church must be soon, and decided to ask God herself, in His house. She got up, tried to shake off her nerves, and steeled herself.

 

* * *

 

The preacher at the pulpit spoke of the events of the past week, the sorrows and tragedies that had befallen the young people of Arcadia Bay. He urged everyone to help their sons and daughters in their time of need, to hold them close, and remind them that they were loved. That to fight against evil, one must have love. “Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.”

Kate murmured “Amen,” with the rest of the congregation, and felt a hope filling her chest. She felt God’s presence, as clear as day, as obvious as when Max had her by the hand, leading her down the steps of the Blackwell dorms. She knew then that God could not be like Victoria Chase (God rest her soul) and every other cruel, judgmental person who had tormented her in the days after the Vortex Club party. He had to be like Max. Patient and kind. And God would not insist on His own way, if He were truly loving; he would smile to see His daughter happy and safe with a girl she loved.

The truth seemed so obvious that she wondered how anyone couldn’t see it. As she stepped out of church, she was determined: the next time she saw Max, she’d say “Yes.” And kiss her. Definitely kiss her.

 

* * *

 

It didn’t turn out to be that easy, of course. Kate desperately wanted just to see her, so all the texts she sent were some variation of _Come to my room_ instead of anything more informative. As the day dragged on without any reply, Kate began to realize that they probably sounded more threatening than inviting, but she didn’t want to convey her personal revelation and confess her love through a _text message_.

As she pondered how to convince Max to come back, turning her phone over in her hands at her desk, she glanced over to the couch and noticed that Max’s covers still lay there, her pillows still on Kate’s bed. Well, if Max wanted to sleep tonight, she’d have to come back. Maybe that was mean, holding Max hostage like that, but Kate wanted this to go exactly right, and that meant seeing Max’s face when she told her how she felt. It meant kissing her to seal the confession. Kate felt giddy just thinking about it, but that soon turned to impatience as she waited anxiously for Max’s knock. She didn’t dare to leave her room, and no amount of reading or practicing violin could drive the thoughts from her head.

Finally, as she sat swiveling in her chair, spinning her phone in her hands, she heard a knock. She shot up out of her seat, dropped her phone, decided it didn’t matter, and rushed over to the door. As she pulled it open to find Max, her heart stopped. Max looked as exhausted as she had that first morning in the hospital, hair frazzled, eyes bloodshot, her gaze on her feet.

“I’m so stupid,” she muttered. “I left everything in here.”

“Max...”

“Don’t worry. I’ll just grab my things and go, you don’t have to—”

Kate put her hands on Max’s shoulders. “Max. Look at me.”

Max raised her gaze and met Kate’s eyes. Kate took a deep breath as Max shook in her arms.

“I love you.”

Max jumped, her eyes widening. Such a beautiful blue. “You-you mean like God loves me, right? Like, as a friend, or—”

“No,” Kate laughed. She took Max’s chin and stepped closer. “Like this.”

Max’s lips were soft and salty, and at first seemed frozen in fear. But as Kate moved her hand to Max’s waist, she came alive, their lips sliding wetly against each other, Kate’s whole body warming as she pressed Max against her. Max was the one who broke contact, stepping back and refusing to meet Kate’s eyes again.

“Kate, I...are you sure, what about your family, what will people say, I can’t bring this into your life right now, I can’t...”

“Who says anyone has to know?” Kate asked, running the back of her hand along Max’s cheek. “Maybe I want you all to myself. My little secret. It’d be nice to have something be private for a change.”

“Kate...” Max took another step back. “People will find out. I can’t—I can’t be the one responsible for what they do to you, they were so _cruel_ —”

“Max, if they find out, I’m standing by you. I’m not ashamed of this,” Kate urged as she inched closer. “This isn’t something I’m doing drugged and captured without my permission. Max, I’ve thought this through. I want to be with you, and I don’t think God would judge me for that, and if anyone else does, they don’t have the right.”

Max embraced her.

“Thank you,” she mumbled into Kate’s shoulder. Kate put a hand on her neck, feeling wetness stain her blouse. “I t-thought I’d lost my last friend, I t-thought...” Max let out a shuddering sigh, then a sharp sniff. “God. God, I can’t believe this. I thought I was going crazy. That you, of all people...”

“Why not me?” Kate asked. “I’ve got every reason. Just because I believe doesn’t mean I can’t be...” The word stopped in her throat. Was ‘lesbian’ right? ‘Gay’? She didn’t want to do any more soul-searching, not right now. She just wanted to _be_. “That I can’t love you,” was what she decided on. “Whether you believe or not, God sent you to me. And I can’t believe He would do that and then tell me I’m a sinner for loving you.”

“You have been thinking about this,” Max said with a soft, wet chuckle.

“All day.”

Max pulled back and smiled at her, and Kate’s heart lifted in her chest. She felt lighter than air as Max wiped her own tears away. “So, um, what do we do now?”

“You move all your stuff in here. We haven’t got long. I want to spend it all together.”

“I really wanna kiss you again.”

Kate kissed her first. She took her hand, and together the two of them set about the task of turning two lives into one.


	4. Paint

Lisa moved in, right next to Alice. The couch became Max’s little haven, where she’d curl up with her laptop (or, occasionally, the rabbit if Kate was unavailable.) They settled into a comfortable routine once Kate was convinced that she really, truly had done all the homework she’d been assigned before the master-class disaster that had befallen Blackwell. They’d sleep together, Max’s arms around Kate, and then wake up with a shared kiss. Get showered, dressed, fed, then a quiet moment where they caught up on the world outside via the Internet, occasionally piping up to tell the other some piece of news, or show her some funny picture shared on Instagram or Tumblr. It was so easy, so natural, that Kate thought they could spend years like this and never get bored.

But eventually, they always seemed to gravitate towards one another, ending up on the couch or in the bed, watching some Max thing or another. Movies, television, anime, whatever Max felt like showing her that day, Kate took it in stride (and as an excuse to cuddle.) Food was acquired in whatever way required the least time out of their nest.

Music played its part too, the two of them learning each other’s quirks and obsessions as their jam sessions turned into legitimate experiences, songs, without words but with so much said. Max tended to pull out the guitar when she ran out of things to say, or when her memories pushed her someplace dark. If it was the latter, Kate would immediately join in, and Max always seemed silently grateful after the last notes faded out. Otherwise, well...

Kate was always sketching. It quickly turned into an obsession, finding those moments when Max was still enough to draw, or was absorbed in something else, and preserving them in graphite or charcoal. Max with her guitar. Max curled up, laptop balanced on her knees. Max with Alice on her chest, running her hands down the rabbit’s fur, smoothing her ears back. Max staring into the mirror, looking at her hair, trying to figure out if there was any reason to change it. She had a book filled with Maxes, and as she considered how soon she’d be leaving, she kept it all the closer.

And Max was leaving soon, too soon. On Monday morning, she told Kate that Chloe’s funeral was on Friday, and that her parents were coming, and afterward, they’d move her out. Max remained adamant that yes, she was going to leave, even Kate couldn’t make the idea of going back to classes at Blackwell anything less than gut-wrenching, and Kate didn’t press the issue. Instead, she merely tried to enjoy what they had, and not think of the future, when both of them would be alone.

Yet something else gnawed at her for the whole week and threw that plan into disarray. It was hard to name it, or even think of it directly; it showed up in the periphery of her mind, sending goosebumps and urges through her that made her want _more_. When Max changed in the morning. When she came back from the showers in just a towel. When she kissed her neck at night. Not always when she would expect, either. When Max had her guitar on her lap, staring down at the strings, lips pursed as she wondered where to start. When Max laughed. When she noticed Kate sketching, and purposefully froze, and gave her a wink. She tried not to let it interfere. But it was there, and ignoring it was hard, because it felt nice, in its way. Max usually made her warm, but _this_ made her hot. Sometimes it felt unbearable, and yet, the way her stomach buzzed, the way her skin pricked, it was all sensation, electric and unthinking impulse, and she hadn’t been able to feel that primal in a while.

She didn’t mention it to Max. She would allow herself to bring her in for a kiss when she felt it, and once she’d felt bold enough to use her tongue, but she kept it thoroughly under wraps. Max might not feel it so strong, so soon, and Kate didn’t even know if she was ready if she couldn’t even use the real words to describe her feelings.

Thursday night felt melancholic, distant, strange. Kate felt, preemptively, Max’s absence. The reality that Max would have to face the next day. Max seemed to feel it too, off in her own little world on the couch, idly leaning back with her stereo playing some soft rock. Neither of them had approached the bed, even though it was past midnight. Going to bed would mean giving this up. Succumbing to Friday.

But Kate’s eyes couldn’t really focus on her laptop screen. She kept thinking of Max’s warmth. The way she wouldn’t be able to feel it again, after tomorrow. Even if they kept up online, this was the last time they’d be able to touch for...for who knew how long. She turned her head to see Max nearly falling asleep, her chin on her chest, eyes half-lidded. Kate felt it come on again, filling her with an undefined energy. She shut down her laptop and walked over to Max, pulling her off the couch by the hand, to her feet.

Max made no complaint. As she stood there, wavering, their eyes met, and Kate’s heart pounded in her chest. The kiss felt all the better for all the silence before it. No discussion. This was just what should be happening. Kate probed with her tongue again, and felt Max’s eager response. They wrapped their arms around each other, and Kate felt a very distinct sensation between her legs as Max pushed her towards the bed. Hot. Slick. _Needing_.

Kate broke off the kiss, breathing heavily, the backs of her knees against the bed. Max ran her hands down Kate’s front, grazing her breasts, braless beneath her pajama shirt. She shivered and felt her nipples grow hard and sensitive as Max pulled her tighter. She ran a hand through Kate’s hair and kissed her forehead.

“I love you.”

Kate swallowed. “Max...”

“Is-is something wrong?” Max asked, stepping back from her for a moment.

“I—” Kate blushed, realizing that explaining herself would be far too embarrassing to bear. “No. Nothing’s wrong. Let’s just—let’s go to bed.”

“It just seemed like—”

“It’s nothing.” Kate cleared her throat. “Really.” She brought Max close again and gave her a quick, chaste peck. “I love you too.”

Kate turned around and crawled into bed, squeezing her legs together as she laid on her side, waiting for Max to get in behind her. She felt acutely aware of every inch of Max’s body that came into contact with her, the slight swell of her breasts against her back, the light touch of her fingertips on her stomach, the way one of her legs hooked over Kate’s and held fast. Kate let out a little... _sound_ as Max settled in, and she heard Max’s breath catch in her throat.

After a moment, Max untangled herself from Kate and put a hand on her shoulder, turning her head to face her. Before Max could get her question out, Kate kissed her. Then again. And again. She couldn’t stop herself. Max, for her part, seemed confused at first, pulling back twice to try and ask her something, but Kate didn’t let her get the words out, and Max stopped trying, leaning into her affections, shaking as Kate’s hands wandered.

She stopped at the bottom of Max’s shirt, gripping it but not moving it as they broke apart, breath heavy in the night air. Max sat up, Kate following her movement, taking her hands off her for a second.

Max tugged at her own shirt. “Kate, do you...do you want me to...”

Kate’s mouth went dry as she stared at Max, imagining, desiring. “...kind of,” she whispered, feeling the heat in her cheeks.

Max laughed nervously as she pulled her shirt off over her head. Kate took a moment to stare at her bare chest, her fingers tentatively reaching. She was so beautiful in the light of the waning moon, shadows lying across her face. She looked for more freckles, running her hands along Max’s collarbone. And then they were kissing again, Kate’s hands on Max’s back, digging her nails into naked flesh. Max’s mouth was _amazing_ , but something in Kate called out for more, and Max apparently heard it, for her fingers started dancing on Kate’s chest, lightly circling her nipples as they kissed. Each stroke sent jolts through her, such light touches but such intense sensation that she had to break away from Max and try to breathe.

“Are you okay?” Max asked, wrapping her arms around Kate.

“Yeah,” Kate breathed.

“Do you want to stop?”

“F-for a minute,” Kate said. “I—I think I need a break.” Max leaned back, Kate resting her head between her breasts, listening to her heartbeat in the silence of the night. But the ‘break’ wasn’t working out. All Kate could think of were things like, _What would she do if I licked her, If I put my hand between her legs would she feel as wet as I do._ Every thought was a variation on the theme of, _What would happen if I touched her_ , a curiosity that burned in her core. Slowly, deliberately, she pushed a hand under the waistband of Max’s shorts, and heard her gasp.

Max’s hair tickled Kate’s nerves as she worked her way down. Her fingers explored Max’s folds, feeling Max’s heat and arousal as Max whimpered and grabbed her by the hair. Kate had never even touched herself that way, and smiled at every little discovery, the way Max responded to a bit of pressure here or there, and then the way her finger slid so easily deeper into her. Max moaned her name, nails digging into her scalp. She took her finger out and drew it back up to where Max had given a very distinct twitch before, the harder little nub. “There,” Max panted as Kate circled it. “God, yes, _there_.”

As Kate happily obeyed, she let another of her thoughts turn into action, and sealed her lips around Max’s nipple, giving it a quick kiss to test Max’s reaction. Max let out an, “Ah!” and Kate took that as a definitive approval, reaching her tongue out to taste her. Max grew frantic under Kate’s attentions, her head tossing back and forth as she tried to muffle the (pleasantly loud) noises she was making right above Kate’s head.

At one point, she pushed Kate off of her for a moment. “Wait, wait,” she breathed, squirming under her and hooking her fingers into her shorts. “I need to...”

Kate helped her pull off the last of her clothing and stared for a minute, brushing her wet fingers through Max’s pubic hair before Max grabbed her hand and pushed it down, urging, “Please.”

Kate pressed on top of Max, pushing her against the bed, fingers still working as she leaned down to kiss her, her other hand squeezing Max’s breast. She could feel the heat and intensity of Max’s short breaths on her face as their tongues met, until Max pulled her head to the side and let out a weak, high-pitched, “Fuck,” and then—

Kate felt Max’s whole body tense up beneath her, back arching, hands clinging desperately to Kate’s back. She let out a long, low moan, then fell back to the bed, hair clinging to her forehead. She pulled Kate’s hand out from between her legs and held it tight. Kate laid her head down on Max’s chest again, her own desire throbbing pleasantly, not enough to make her want to break Max’s reverie.

Max’s breathing took a while to slow, its slide into normality broken up by occasional giggles, apparently unconnected to anything Kate was doing. When she looked up into Max’s half-black eyes, she just said, “This isn’t how I thought this night was gonna go.”

“Really?” Kate kissed her cheek. “What did you think would happen?”

“I was gonna lie here _thinking_ about it all night like I have for half this week,” Max explained, running her hand through Kate’s hair. “I didn’t wanna push. We haven’t been together long, and I thought — I thought you’d need time to come around to it. But then you...”

Kate pulled her closer. “I just wanted...I didn’t know exactly what I wanted, but I wanted to do it before you left.”

“If—If that’s the only—Kate, tomorrow doesn’t have to be the end, we can keep up with Skype or—”

“Too late. Already did it,” Kate interrupted. “And I know all of that. But I won’t be able to touch you. I wanted to do _that_.”

Max let out a sigh of relief. “I just don’t—I don’t want to be your lesbian regret, or something.”

Kate kissed her again, this time on the lips. “Not happening,” she added. She wrapped her legs around Max’s thigh, sitting up and straddling it, sighing at the pressure between them as she pressed down on Max. “I am _more_ than ready,” she said, grinding herself against Max’s bare skin.

Max sat up, running a hand along Kate’s arm. “Then do you want me to...”

“ _Yes._ ”

Max’s touches were nervous, light pressure through Kate’s clothes, never fully committing. Like she was afraid she was going to break something as she caressed Kate’s chest. “Max,” she laughed, “I’m not a doll.” She reached down and pulled her shirt off herself, feeling free as she tossed it to the floor and shook her hair out.

“I-I just don’t wanna hurt you, or go too far, or...” Max looked away, biting her lip.

“I trust you, Max. But if you’re nervous, we can stop.” Kate leaned in close and gently turned Max’s head to face her. “I don’t want to pressure you.”

“T-then can you—It’s just, the way you’re over me right now...” Max swallowed. “It just feels sort of like..”

“Oh!” Kate climbed off of her, settling down by her side. “Is this better?”

Max nodded, closing her eyes and breathing. “Yeah. Sorry.”

Kate ran her fingers along Max’s neck, wanting to kiss her, but wanting to let her take the lead, too. She was so beautiful, nude, her skin shining with sweat. She was almost willing to fall asleep if Max wasn’t ready to give back, but then-

Max suddenly rolled her over, pinning her arms to her sides. Kate giggled at the very serious, very concerned look on Max’s face, the deep flush on her cheeks. She leaned up and gave her a quick kiss, which seemed to ease the tension in Max’s hands a bit. Kate slipped her hands out of Max’s grasp and gently took hold of Max’s wrists, directing them to her waistband. “Take them off,” she whispered, and Max proved, as usual, to be a very good listener. Once she’d struggled out of her clothes, Kate spread her legs, waiting to feel Max, patient even if inside she was burning up.

When Max did find the courage, Kate knew immediately that Max had more practice at this than she did. Her strokes were quick, effortless, and Kate thought _she must touch herself_ as she closed her eyes and groaned at the image. Max kissed her neck, her shoulder, her breasts, coming in faster and faster as her rhythm sped up. Kate threw a hand out and found the back of Max’s head, pushing their lips together as Max pinched one of her nipples between two fingers. Kate instinctively bit down on Max’s lower lip, and drew a shocked gasp that sent Kate further into sensation even as Max pulled away. She dug her fingernails into Max’s shoulder and brought her down, pressing their bodies together, and took Max’s shoulder in her mouth.

Every muscle in her body quivered and she felt this primal urge, to mark Max like property, because Max was hers, her secret, her love, her angel. She wanted to _bite_. She tried to hold off, just sucking toothlessly, running her tongue on Max’s flesh, but then something in her peaked and she sank her teeth in in shock, moaning into Max’s skin. Max yelped, jumping back, her fingers leaving Kate just as she thought she couldn’t take another second of being touched. Kate panted, staring through hooded eyes as Max rubbed her shoulder.

“S-sorry,” Kate stammered, the waves of pleasure still rippling through her. “I, uh...”

“So I need to be careful,” Max said, taking her hand off the mark for a second. It looked red and angry, and Kate felt a perverse sense of satisfaction wash over her.

“Sorry, I don’t know, I just...it just kind of happened.” Kate’s rational circuits started to kick back in as her climax faded, and she blushed and turned away.

“Just...warn me next time,” Max said, lying down against Kate’s side. “I didn’t know you...liked that kind of thing.”

“I didn’t either. A-and I didn’t really feel it coming, it just did.” Kate’s voice came out as a squeak on the last word, and she turned away from Max, lying on her side. “I’m sorry, that’s, that’s kind of sick.”

“I’m not judging.” Max’s voice no longer stammered or shuddered, there was no trace of the nervousness that had marked her tone. It calmed Kate, the warmth in her words. “Just learning new things about you. You bite when you come, apparently.”

Kate had heard the word before, but she always semi-blocked out conversations about sex, and hearing it so plainly from Max was enough to make her shiver. And then, she sort of consciously noticed that she had just _had_ sex, or something like it, and that felt kind of strange too. But in a good way. Max’s arms around her helped, too.

Lying naked with Max tangled around her, she felt safe and calm and renewed. And immensely satisfied, especially when she thought about the fact that she’d probably left a mark on Max’s shoulder that would be there after she left. Tomorrow, Max would leave. But tonight, everything felt right, and warm, and comfortable.

“I’m gonna miss you,” Max murmured through a yawn. She reached down and threw the covers over the two of them.

“I love you.”

“Love you too, weirdo.” A kiss on the back of her neck, the kind that always made her spine tingle. The last one for a while. But not forever. As Kate drifted towards sleep, she knew, she was as certain as she’d ever been, that she and Max would make it.

**Author's Note:**

> Orphaned because it felt too shallow in comparison to the rest of the stuff on my works page. I cleaned it up for you a bit beforehand, though.


End file.
